All I Can Do For You
by ayrangel1221
Summary: She showed up broken, in more ways than one and although they weren't exactly whole, they took her in and tried to help her heal. But at the same time, they can feel themselves healing as well, in spite of themselves...
1. Prologue: Jane

_**A/N: Welcome to my second adventure in the Marvel Universe, this time starring the Avengers and Co., **__**All I Can Do for You. **__**Each chapter of this story is from a different Avenger's (or other associated character's) point of view, although the main character is an OC. **_

_**Also, to all those *cough Sporks cough cough* who have been waiting for this and I broke my promise to, please, please, please forgive my late update! I'm really super sorry but I had a family reunion and didn't have time before I left. I'll try to keep up for the rest of the summer!**_

_**Enjoy, review and share with your friends and family if you like it. Thanks and love you all!**_

Prologue- Jane's POV

"I have to admit, laser tag without powers is a much more fun and much less dangerous game than the normal Avengers version." I laughed as we exited the arcade. Thor, my amazing and thoughtful husband, picked me up bridal style and kissed the top of my head. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I kissed him back, earning a wolf-whistle from Tony. Pepper slapped him and apologized on his behalf, but Thor and I were too in love to care.

As we crossed the street and turned right towards the subway tunnel entrance, I heard a noise off to my left, a weak, almost human cry coming from an alleyway. I turned to the others, wondering if they'd heard it. Thor, seeing the expression on my face, set me down gently.

"What is it?" he asked, concern flitting across his open, honest features.

"Nothing," I said, shaking my head to clear it. "I just thought I heard…"

At that instant, a scream pierced the night air followed by the snap of a door being flung open. A thump sounded as something heavy hit the ground, an unintelligible plea echoed down the alley, and then the door slammed. Before the reverberations of the slam faded, the Avengers were (mostly) ready for action.

Bruce and Pepper were dispatched to call for Happy and the car while I stayed with Tony at the mouth of the alley and waited for the latest Iron Man suit to arrive. Thor pulled Cap, Natasha, Clint and his own weapons and suits out of the duffel bag he'd brought from the Tower. Everyone suited up, with the exception of Natasha, who only pulled on a Kevlar vest and her gloves that carried her specialty weapons. The four of them headed into the dark portal, where barely muffled sobs were now exiting into the night air, weapons raised and eyes darting around for any sign of trouble.

As the lights of Tony's suit finally showed up in the night sky, diving down to meet us, I worried about the lack of any sound, save the crying, in the alley. Surely, if a battle was ensuing there would be a lot of noise right? Clanging, gunshots, shouts, buildings falling over, something. But only the soft sobs cut through the blackness to meet my ears. I held my breath as the armor landed beside us and clipped itself around Tony's body.

Finally, with Tony just entering the dark side-street, familiar voices traveled through the night, and I released my breath in a sigh of relief.

"It's just a kid." Clint deep tones held traces of relief and incredulity that only someone familiar with him would have caught. But Steve's frank honesty showed all his worry when he spoke.

"She's hurt." My heart caught in my throat. A little girl, hurt in a dark alley on the rough side of New York City. It sounded like the opening scene of one of Clint's crime-solving shows. I forced myself to relax.

_It's going to be all right. _I thought to myself. _We just need to get her to a hospital, then we give our statement to the police and they'll find her parents. She'll be fine and it will all end well._ I almost had myself convinced, but when Thor called out to the girl, everything went wrong.

"Excuse me, young lady. Do…"

"No!" A tortured cry of pain and terror sliced through the quiet like an ice-cold knife. "Leave me alone!"

"Calm down. We're the good guys." Tony's voice sounded mechanical as it exited his suit.

"Please, just go away! No more, don't hurt me, please!" The girl's voice was desperate, helpless, pleading. I decided I had to go in there. Yanking the emergency first-aid kit out of the duffel bag Thor had dropped to the sidewalk, I headed in. My little group of heroes meant well, but they didn't know how scary they looked in their full battle gear. My first aid training and lack of armor and weapons would make it possible for me to help without scaring the poor thing.

"Don't shoot!" I whisper-yelled as all the Avengers whirled around to face me, weapons raised.

"Jane! What are you doing?" Thor lowered his hammer to the ground, stepping forward to take my shoulders in his large, warm hands. I saw a flash of movement against the back wall of the alley, just within the ring of light from Tony's suit and heard a barely suppressed sob.

"She's just a little girl and all your gear is scaring her. Let me help her." Tony and Cap looked at each other, then at the duo of assassins on the other side of me and my husband. They shrugged and Thor nodded. Steve looked me in the eye and nodded.

"Fine, but be careful." Nodding, I gently removed Thor's hands from my shoulders, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

"I'll be fine. Don't worry." I whispered. Stepping into the darkness where I had seen motion before, I held up my hands and spoke softly to the shadowy shape trying to press itself into the crumbling bricks behind it.

"Hi, I'm Jane. Listen, I'm a friend. Will you let me help you?" The shape shifted and took a shuddery breath before answering.

"Are they gone?" The words were barely audible over the whirring of Tony's suit.

"No, but they are friends too. I won't let them come closer if you don't want." I replied. As my eyes adjusted to the half-light, I saw the girl in more detail. Fourteen of fifteen, perhaps, wearing a dirty white t-shirt and cutoff jeans. Her feet were bare and two cuts, one on her right cheek and another on her forehead above her eye, dripped blood down her face. She didn't seem to notice that there was blood in her eye. Her hair was dirty, cropped short and uneven. She was staring blankly at a spot just above my right shoulder, as if at something behind me.

"OK." She finally whispered and I kneeled beside her. Taking out an antiseptic wipe, I gently cleansed the wounds on her face and bandaged them. All the time, I spoke softly to her, but not once did she answer or even meet my eyes. I asked her if she had any other wounds and she showed me a bruise blooming in all shades of purple and blue on her side. Probing around, I didn't find any broken or cracked ribs so I just left it until we could get a more expert opinion.  
As I finished up with her side, I realized that the thump we had heard earlier had probably been her falling to the ground. _I should probably check for a concussion. _I thought. Pulling a tiny flashlight out of the kit, I tapped the girl's shoulder to get her attention. She jumped at the contact, but calmed when I spoke.

"Hey, can you look at me for a minute? I need to make sure you didn't hurt your head when you fell…" I trailed off when what little color she had gained drained from her face. She looked away, shaking her head almost ashamedly.

"What? Why not?" I queried. I tried to touch her shoulder again but she shrunk away as soon as I even brushed her.

"I can't." She said softly as her voice broke, fear and shame trickling into the words. She hugged her knees and shrank back against the wall again.

"Why not?" I asked more gently, trying to understand.

"Because," She breathed. "I can't see. I'm blind and-." A sob cut off the rest of her sentence, but she refused to speak anymore.

When the car arrived, Pepper, Bruce and I went in it to the Tower. The others decided to un-suit and call a taxi instead. We arrived at Avengers Tower quickly. The girl fell asleep in my lap, and soon afterward, we decided not to take her to the hospital. We would let her sleep tonight and see what the morning brought.

Bruce carried her inside, laying her in her own room next door to me and Thor's. She didn't stir once and although her sleep was fitful, she seemed comfortable. When the others arrived, I was still standing in her doorway, watching her slowly relax. Thor came up behind me, hugging me from behind and leaning down to kiss the back of my neck briefly. Sighing, I leaned back against his chest.

"Are you all right?" He asked softly, squeezing me as gently as he could. Nodding I turned, letting his strong arms envelop me.

"I just can't help but wonder what happened to her. She was really scared, Thor, and hurt pretty badly." I whispered, letting the hot tears I'd been holding back run down my face and into the soft, worn t-shirt he'd changed in to. "Who would do such a thing to such an innocent, helpless, young child?" He just held me while I cried, letting the tears fall and comforting me.

"At least here, she can find a safe place to heal." Natasha's voice sounded unusually kind as she passed me on the way to her and Clint's room.

"We all did." Clint replied, taking his red-haired wife in his arms and closing the door with a quiet click.

_**A/N: Thanks for reading; I hope you don't mind the early update. I will be updating on Fridays every week for the foreseeable future except for the week of the 28**__**th**__** when I will be updating either super early (like Monday) or a little late (Like Saturday). Depends on how many review I get… Love you guys. Next week, we hear her story as she talks to Thor. Thanks again!**_


	2. Chapter 1: Natasha

_**A/N: Hey everybody! Hope you've had a better week than me. Not that it would be hard to beat, my week has been one hellish problem or obstacle after another, pardon my French. I guess I shouldn't really complain; as you will soon see, Alyssa's life is much worse so I really have nothing to complain about. Too all those who read and have a tiny spark of pity for the author of this terrible fiction, I'd really appreciate it if you could keep me in your prayers/thoughts/short term memory or whatever.**_

_**Also, last week I said she'd be talking to Thor, but I found in writing this, that I can't write in Thor's point of view for the life of me… so you get Natasha instead! Thanks and enjoy!**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers or associated names, places, etc. I only own Alyssa, her family and the story line. **_

**Chapter 1: Natasha**

My eyes flicked open and I switched from sleep to consciousness instantaneously. What had awoken me? My hand slid under the pillow and clenched around the gun hidden there. Had an enemy slipped past Jarvis? Then, a soft cry, muffled by the walls, hit my ears. The sound was familiar, but it didn't belong to anyone in the mansion. Wait. The girl. Slipping out from under Clint's arm, I accidentally awoke him. Sleepily, he threw a punch at my face. Catching it easily, I gestured for him to go back to sleep.

"Just me. I'll be back in a little while." Yawning, he nodded and rolled over, putting his back to the door out of habit.

Creeping down the hall, I opened the girl's door and slipped inside, my eyes adjusting quickly to the darkness after the dim lights of the hall. The girl, obviously in the grip of some nightmare, thrashed about on the bed, muttering and moaning and crying to someone I couldn't see. Her eyelids fluttered and underneath her sightless eyes rolled around as though scanning a large group of people for one specific face. She seemed terrified.

Making my way nearer to the bed, I couldn't help but feel a little helpless. What was I supposed to do to help? Should I help? Seeing her, sweat-drenched and exhausted sparked a memory; something that happened a long time ago that I had never told anyone. Something I had not allowed myself to remember either. I don't let myself relive the whole thing, but bits and pieces flash in front of my mind's eye, out of my control.

_ A building plan lays out on a table while a strong, callused finger traces out a route. A simple plan is settled upon and the schematics are rolled up and stored in the makeshift shelter under the branches of a large pine. The archer, my partner of only a few months sits twiddling with his arrows while I crouch on a rise nearby and watch the falling snow. What past hid under that inscrutable, energetic exterior and had it made him trustworthy? It didn't matter. I couldn't trust anyone, didn't need to. I was the Black Widow, I worked alone. _

_ Limping slightly, I pull myself into the lower branches of a tree on the edge of the forest. From my vantage point, I can see the burning building clearly, smoke pouring out of the broken windows. What had started as a quiet assassination attempt had been turned into a full-out firefight. In the smoke and battle, I had lost sight of Hawkeye. As far as I could tell, he hadn't come out yet._

_ "Come on." I mutter as precious seconds tick by. He has to make it out before the building collapses. I knew the target was dead; I had killed him myself. The comm link in my ear crackles and the twanging of a bowstring comes over the line. Listening carefully, I hear him loose another arrow and simultaneously, a boom sounds and the flash of an explosion tell me he's running out of options. _

_ "Get out of there!" My voice is grating and rough from smoke, but the begrudging concern I feel makes it even harsher, despite my efforts to hide all emotion. _

_ "Widow, where's the target?" He manages, panting and loosing another explosive arrow, as the flashing and booming show clearly again._

_ "Dead. Now get…" Suddenly, I'm cut off by a groan and the thud of Barton's body hitting the ground. Fear bubbles up in my throat but I push it down. Now is not the time for panic._

_ "Barton. Sit rep." I command, holding my hand to my ear to catch his words._

_ "Caught bullets in my stomach, shrapnel in my leg and burns all up my right side. Head's bleeding from hitting the ground." His voice is strained with pain and exhaustion and the panic in my stomach burbles up again, stronger this time._

_ "I'm coming back for you." I say, leaping from the tree and hitting the ground a little harder than I meant to with a wince._

_ "No. I'm fine," I cut him off._

_ "You're not fine. I'll meet you at the north side of the building. Can you get there?" I'm already on the move, limping on my swollen ankle as fast as I can._

_ "Yes." A moan comes after and I know he's also moving. _

_ "ETA two minutes. Over and out." _

_ The next two minutes are a blur of pain and fear. Black and white, shadows and snow, I barely take notice, sprinting back the way I had come in my own footsteps. When I get to the building, I hesitate at the edge of the trees, glancing around for my missing partner. _

_ "Come on, come on, this place is going to drop any minute!" My whisper apparently makes it to his ear because he answers with a dry laugh and a tired defense._

_ "I'm moving as fast as I can, woman. Be patient. At the door now." And then, he's there, limping through with his arm clenched around his side and burns forming blisters on his face and hand. Everywhere else is smoking and drenched in blood, his own and others, and I race forward to meet him. Luckily, his bad leg is on my good side, and together, we limp back to camp, the quickly falling snow filling in our slow tracks. As we continue, Barton's breathing grows ragged and his skin grows clammy and pale. He's losing a lot of blood._

_ "We're almost there." I pant. "Just a little further." He doesn't answer._

_ Five days later, and the med evac team has been held up by the blizzard blowing across the entire area. Inside the tiny shelter, the air is burningly hot while Barton fights a serious infection. Moaning deliriously from pain and fever all I can do is soak rags in the snow and try to keep him cool. The snow that has buried us reflects all the heat back to him though, and his fever only climbs. I'm exhausted. I haven't slept since the day before the mission. I mostly spend the day in a half-asleep stupor, rousing myself every half hour to trade out the hot, dry rags on Barton's arms and forehead for the other batch I've been soaking in snow. I try to drip water into his mouth, but usually, he only coughs it out, too weak to swallow. I'm losing him._

_ Whatever visions his delirium is showing him, they are frightening him. He screams, moans, cries and thrashes, draining what little energy he has into fighting the demons of his mind. If he stays under much longer, I'm afraid he's going to be the cause of his own death. The endless sounds of his cries grates on my nerves, making me feel even more ragged and tired than I am already. He needs to rest, and so do I, but I can't until he's stable. I'm pretty sure I've cleared out the infection but his fever refuses to abate. _

_ "No! Stop! Please, what did I do? Just tell me please!" He screams, weakly tossing his arms over his face as if for protection. In an impulsive act of desperation, I turn towards him, gently taking one of his hands in mine and smoothing his ratty hair with the other._

_ "Hush, its ok." I croon, my voice a fatigued croak. His forehead is so hot, his bloodshot eyes rolling under the fluttering lids. "Calm down, it's ok." I whisper, awkwardly running the back of my hand down his face. Continuing in this way, he slowly calms, falling into an exhausted sleep and his temperature dropping gradually. As the final screams of the wind abate on the morning of the sixth day, his fever breaks and I relax. He's going to be ok. _

_ We were found late that night and as far as I know, he doesn't remember that time or what I did. I'm not sure if I want him to or not._

I yank myself back to reality, finding myself seated on the edge of the girl's mattress. She's still

dreaming. A rush of an emotion I barely recognized –tenderness?—fills me and I lean over slightly, brushing the hair off her forehead and gently caressing the soft, warm skin of her face. It feels natural, and I can't help but wonder if this is how a mother feels as she soothes her children. I… I liked the feeling. Although it was strange for my hands to be caring, it was also familiar.

Lost in my thoughts, I don't notice she's awoken until she sits up in bed with a scream, panting and throwing her arms up as though to protect her face. Wrapping my arms around her instinctively, I pull her close to my chest, running my fingers over her hair and comforting her.

"Shh, shh, it's ok. It's ok, they can't hurt you anymore." With a sob, she falls into my embrace, crying as the final images of the dream fade away. I don't know how long we sit there, but gradually, she calms, becoming fully conscious of our position when the last tears fade away. Starting, she scrambles away, not calming until her back presses against the wall.

"Who is it?" She asks nervously, drawing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

"It's Natasha. You seemed scared so I was just trying to help." She nods and draws a deep breath. Hesitantly, I ask the question that's been on my mind since I entered the room.

"What were you dreaming about, if I may ask?" Seeming startled by the question, she answers slowly.

"Not so much a dream as a montage of all my worst memories." This revelation causes me a lot of concern. If these are her memories, then who is she so afraid of that she has to protect herself from them. Settling myself further onto the bed, I wait for the rest of the explanation and after a moment, she supplies it.

"My dad always wanted the perfect daughter. But he was disappointed both times he tried. The first time, he got a son. Aidan ran away when he turned fifteen, even though it broke Mom's heart that he couldn't wait to get away. When Aidan was three, Mom and Dad tried again. They had me, and even though I was a girl, when I was three, there was a fire in our house and I got hit in the head with a falling beam and lost my sight. Suddenly, I was imperfect. Dad got depressed. First he couldn't keep a job, and then he started the drinking. Soon he started hitting Mom. Then, one day he went too far. Mom never, ever cried. But this time, he hurt her so bad, she cried. I was five and it made me mad that he had hurt her so bad. So I told him to stop. And that day was the first time he hit me. After that, the beatings got worse. I've been beat every day of my life ever since I was five years old."

When she started her story, she looked off to the side and set her face in a mask of numb, resigned detachment. She didn't break, not once.

"I don't hate my dad," She continued, saying it so matter-of-factly that it startled me. "I can remember what it was like before. He and Mom really loved each other and loved me. He isn't all bad. It's just the drinking. But I can't help but be afraid of him." Now she set her eyes as close to my face as she could, as though she wanted to look me in the eye.

"Earlier tonight, when you guys found me, he was kicking me out. He couldn't put up with my 'uselessness' anymore, so he got rid of me. That's my story, what's yours?" Once again, the question takes me by surprise. This girl is so strong, so resilient. It must have taken a lot to make her break down the way she had in the alley. Wincing, she lays back down.

"Is that everything or may I sleep now?" She queries, as though it were my fault she can't sleep. But when I look at her to ask her what she meant by that, her face shows only exhaustion and sincerity. She hadn't been basically telling me to shove off, quite the opposite. She'd been asking if there was anything she could do for me? For the I-don't-know-how-many-eth time, she's managed to astonish me.

"Just tell me your name and I'll be out of your hair." I finally say. With a smile she stretches, wincing again at the pull in her side and brings the blankets back up to her chin.

"Alyssa." She yawns. Then, she's asleep, peacefully resting again.

Climbing back into bed with Clint, he turns over and pulls me close to his chest, kissing the top of my head sleepily.

"Is she going to be alright?" he mumbles softly as I settle my head into the crook of his neck.

"She's strong. She's going to be fine." I answer, closing my eyes and letting myself drift back to sleep again. _At least, I hope so. _I think, somewhat incoherently, as my mind goes blank.

_**A/N: So, what do you think? Was it terrible? Was the flashback awful? (Just to clarify, that was Natasha's past, before they met the Avengers and after Clint brought her back instead of killing her and I totally made it up.) What do you think of poor Alyssa's past? Tell me how horrid everything was, or if by some strange twist of fate I actually managed to write something worthwhile, let me know that too! I love you guys, have a great weekend and I'll try to update on time next week, but Girl's Camp might mess that up. Love you all!**_


	3. Chapter 2: Steve

_**A/N: Welcome back to my craziness, folks! I was looking at my traffic stats and realized just how many of you there are. And from so many different countries too! I'll say hi in as many languages as I can type on an American keyboard so as few people feel left out as possible: Hi, Hola, Bonjour, Nihao, Bongiorno… I'm sorry, but that's all I got. I can say it in Russian, but I don't have the Cyrillic alphabet on my keyboard so… sorry! I love all you guys though!**_

_**Let it be said right now, I've never been to New York so all the descriptions in this chapter are what I've gotten out of books and movies coupled with a lot of imagination. If any of you are from New York, please don't hesitate to tell me what I messed up and I will fix it as soon as I can.**_

_**Enjoy!**_

**Chapter 2: Steve**

__The sun, tinted orange by the smog of the city, finally peeked out from behind the tall skyscraper and shone into my eyes, making me blink rapidly. Another day dawned on the fine city of New York, the third dawn since we picked up that girl in the alley. Sipping my peppermint tea, courtesy of Bruce, I thought about what Natasha had said about her, the girl, Alyssa. She had a pretty tough life growing up; no support from her parents, a physical disability, a runaway brother. I shivered, thinking gratefully of my own mother and father, who despite my bad health growing up, had cared for me and loved me. Alyssa… let's just say she hadn't been so lucky.

A soft footstep sounded behind me and I turned slightly. To my surprise, it was Alyssa, feeling her way along the wall towards the kitchen. Her nose twitched, obviously picking up the scent of peppermint from the warm teapot on the stove. Setting my mug on the table, I made my way to her. I gently took her hand as she reached forward, but was startled by the speed of her reaction in snatching her hand back. The color drained from her face and she gasped, stumbling backwards a few steps, but somehow kept her balance. I realized my mistake and tried to reassure her.

"Hey! It's ok. It's just me, Steve. I was just trying to help." Swallowing gently, she blinked slowly, breathing deeply and trying to calm herself. Carefully, I reached out and took her hand in mine, slowly leading her to the kitchen table. She sat gratefully and smiled weakly, looking slightly ashamed.

"I'm sorry." She whispered. "I don't know what came over me. I'm just a little jumpy I guess."

"No problem." I replied softly, heading back around the breakfast bar to the kitchen.

"Can I fix you anything?" I quickly thought through the list of things I could cook. Toast, cereal, pancakes; the list wasn't very long. But luckily, she seemed easy to please.

"I remember trying pancakes once, before…" She stopped and I saw she was blinking back tears. With a shake of her head, she continued. "Pancakes would be nice, if you would be so kind." Grinning, I pulled a bowl and the pancake mix out of the cupboard. Stirring up a batch of batter, I turned on the griddle, pouring messy ovals of the cream colored glop onto the hot surface. Then, I stood next to it with a spatula in hand. Looking up, I saw my reflection in the big window on the other side of the room. Suddenly, I was glad the others weren't going to see this. I'd never have heard the end of it.

"Something smells good." _Great. _I thought. _Pepper came home early. Lucky me. At least it's not Tony. _

"Steve? Is that you?" Frantically, I tried to decide whether I could get away with not answering. Alyssa, both to my horror and relief, decided for me.

"Yeah. Steve and I are in here. He's making me pancakes." Rolling my eyes, I sighed. It was too late now.

"OK…" She sounded almost disbelieving. For some reason, I found myself answering to the tone.

"Hey, just because I'm a guy and I've been on ice for a while doesn't mean I can't cook!" Pepper's laugh answered me. I flipped the first batch onto a plate and started the next set.

"That's not what I meant. Mind if I snag one for Tony? He didn't eat before we left."

"Fine, but tell him you made it." Pepper breezed in, grabbed two off the top and bit off the edge of one.

"Mmmmm." She hummed, smiling and thrusting Tony's pancake into a Ziploc bag. "Thanks Cap." Nodding, I took the rest of the pancakes over to Alyssa, reaching over the breakfast bar for a fork.

"Syrup? Jam? Sugar? What do you want on it?" After a moment she nodded.

"Which one?" I asked again, confused.

"Can I try one with each?" She queried, looking nervous.

"Sure." I answered. I got two more plates and the toppings, buttering them thoroughly and slathering toppings on them. She tucked in hungrily, polishing off all three pancakes in a matter of minutes. By then, I was starting into my own stack of pancakes, topped with raspberry jam. She sat while I ate, obviously enjoying the last flavors lingering on her tongue.

As I was finishing off the last pancake, she felt her way to the window, closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of the sun on her face. The sounds of the street were faint, but audible through the thick glass. As I watched her, I suddenly had an idea. Picking up our plates and rinsing them in the sink, I planned the whole thing in my mind. Finally, I spoke.

"Alyssa, how would you like to spend the day with me, exploring the city?" She turned, her sightless eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Really? We can do that? Just take the whole day off?" I laughed softly, drying my hands and walking over to her.

"Of course! We're the Avengers. As long as we take our emergency phones and as long as there's money in Tony's account, we can pretty much do whatever we want." Gently taking her wrist, I led her to her room.

"Change your clothes and I'll come get you in a minute. We'll leave a note and then we're gone. Sound like a plan?" She nodded eagerly and closed the door. I speed-walked to my room, pulling on my jacket and filling the pockets. Wallet, check; phone, check; stale bread in a Ziploc bag, check. I yanked on my shoes and returned to Alyssa's room. She was already ready, standing just inside the doorway with her hair pulled into a ponytail and her shoes in her hands. She pulled them on as she heard me approach, smiling excitedly.

"Let's go." I said, softly taking her wrist and leading her to the elevator. "Let's go on an adventure."

We took a taxi to Central Park, paying the driver a good-sized tip. I got out first, then went around to the other side to open Alyssa's door. As soon as the harsh honking and clanging sounds hit her ears, she covered them with her hands and squeezed her eyes shut.

"It's so loud!" She yelled, sounding both excited and pained. Taking my hand, she stepped out onto the sidewalk and the taxi squealed away.

"I guess your ears must be pretty sensitive huh?" I said sympathetically, remembering the first time I had experienced my heightened hearing after the experiment. It hurt, but I had gotten used to it. After all, I had grown up in New York City. She nodded and sniffed experimentally, wrinkling her nose at the strong scent of exhaust, mingling with the odors of sweat, grass and various perfumes as people strode by on the sidewalk.

"So many smells! There must be a lot of people around, I can hear their footsteps. Where are we?" She jumped from topic to topic excitedly, turning her head from side to side to catch every smell, every sound. She gripped my hand tightly, bouncing slightly in anticipation. I laughed at the sight, and she joined me, for the sheer joy of it.

"Central Park. My favorite place in all of New York. I figured it was as good a place to start as any." We stepped onto the path, she following directly in my footsteps as we weaved around joggers, mothers with strollers, and bikers. We headed towards the little pond where the ducks swam and begged for food. The day was perfect, warm with a soft wind. Spring just didn't get any better than this. When we got within sight of it, we cut across the grass to reach the little pond. As we got to the taller grass by the side of the pond I heard Alyssa gasp behind me. Worried that something had happened, I turned quickly.

"Are you O…" I fell silent. Alyssa's eyes were wide and she tilted her head to the side, listening as a breeze rustled the tall, thick grass.

"What is this? It sounds so amazing. And the scent… mmmmmm." Alyssa sank to her knees in the tall grass, leaning over to brush the tips of it against her cheek. "It feels soft and it tickles!" She laughed musically, the awe in her voice apparent.

"You mean, you've never felt grass before?" I questioned. She just shook her head, closing her eyes and breathing deeply.

"I think I have, it was just so long ago I can't remember. I love it!" I settled myself on the ground, running the grass between my fingers. Closing my eyes, I tried to imagine what it would be like to feel this for the first time. I breathed deeply, tipping my head and trying to catch onto whatever she was experiencing. The grass, rough on one side and smooth on the other, slid between my loosely pinched fingers and the sound as it rustled was like a small stream or rain falling on leaves. It was a peaceful sound, a sound full of gentle life. I pulled out a blade and rubbed it between my fingers, catching the scent as it drifted up from the crushed stalks beneath us. It smelled fresh and clean and I could almost sense in the fragrance the sun and water and minerals that made up the small plants. It conjured up images of summer, of clouds passing overhead and splashing in a lake with family and friends I knew and trusted. I felt myself relaxing, the stresses of the past years washing away as I became just another kid happy that school was out for the summer.

"Shall we go on?" Alyssa's voice was soft and happy and as I opened my eyes, I saw her gray-blue irises sparkling with joy. Instead of answering, I took her hand and stood up, pulling her to her feet and leading her to the pond.

"Have you ever fed ducks before?" I asked, a mischievous undertone coloring my words. Pressing a piece of stale bread into her hand, I pulled her into a crouch by the pool. Guiding her hand, I helped her throw a bit of bread in front of the smallest duckling. As we threw piece after piece, the duckling swam closer. Finally I had her hold out a piece on her palm, over the edge of the water.

"Shh. He's going to come eat it out of your hand. Just sit still and be quiet." Instantly, she froze, eyes wide and mouth opened slightly. The duckling crept closer, keeping a beady eye on me and snatching glances at the bread every few strokes. Finally, it leapt forward and gobbled the crumb, darting away with a triumphant _quack. _Alyssa gasped, slowly drawing her hand in close and running her fingers over the spot the duck had touched. Suddenly, she laughed.

"That was amazing! Did he really take it right out of my hand?" She was absolutely awestruck. I laughed with her.

"Yep. He crept right up close and snatched it faster than lightning. He was so proud of himself he went to go brag to all his friends about it." We both laughed and stood.

"Let's go to one more place before lunch OK? It'll be a bit of a walk, but I think you'll like it." She nodded, taking her place behind me again. I felt a little nervous, but content all the same.

For the first time in seventy-five years, I was going home.

The brown house with the red door stood, just as it always had, on the corner of 62nd St. and Jefferson Lane. I looked up to the attic window I had sat by for most of my childhood, looking out at the world I was too sick to play in. Glancing down, I realized that Alyssa had let go of my hand and stepped away. Walking over to her, I took her hand again.

"Let's go. It was nice to see my old house again, but this isn't what I wanted to show you. Come on." She nodded and squeezed my hand, walking forward when I did. I appreciated her respect for the moment.

We went down a couple of blocks and turned left, heading down toward a cluster of family-owned shops at the end of the street. Stopping in front of Lily's Bakery, I smiled. In the window, painted fresh, but still the same as ever sat a sign: 2 Large Apple Cinnamon Rolls for $2. The same thing my mother had brought home from work once a week or so since I could remember. Stepping inside, I ordered the advertised special, leading Alyssa to a table in the corner. After a couple of minutes, two freshly baked rolls were delivered to our table, each on a plate with a fork and napkin.

"My mom used to bring these rolls home all the time. I wonder if they're as good as I remember." After the first bite, I smiled. They were exactly as I remembered, hot and sweet with crisp, juicy apple slices and just the right amount of cinnamon and nutmeg. Alyssa and I both finished at the exact same time, leaning back and wiping our mouths.

"Your mom sounds like a nice lady." Alyssa said quietly. "Where is she now?" I cleared my throat, trying to clear away the emotion in my voice along with it.

"She died. My dad too. I was… gone for a long time and when I came back, everyone I knew was dead. It's a long story, but don't feel bad. I have a new family now in the Avengers and I think that everything will work out for the best." My voice cracked a little at the end as I remembered everyone I had lost. Not just my family, but others I had loved too. Bucky, John, Peggy… I closed my eyes against the memories.

"I know it'll work out. After all, I'm kind of starting over too. My brother's been gone since I was twelve and I'll probably never see my mom again. We can both find new lives together." She was so sincere, so kind, so innocent and hopeful. I couldn't help but smile.

"Together." I repeated, taking her hand and guiding her to the door. "Let's go home. I forgot to leave that note so the others are probably looking for us." That simple nod came again and her hand gripped mine so trustingly I felt… I didn't know. All I knew was that I had to protect this girl. This naïve, sweet, strong girl that had fallen into our arms that night. Now that her family was gone, it was our job to be her crazy, well-meaning brothers and sisters, uncles and aunts, mothers and fathers. And I was determined to be the best big brother I could be. I had a mission for my life again. I wouldn't fail and leave this time.

_**A/N: I officially think that Cap would be the best big brother ever. Anyone else? Let me know. Next week, tentatively, should be Pepper. Let me know what you think, and if you are from a different country than me, I'd love to hear from you so I can learn more about you and where you are from. PM, review, Iris Message, owl, something! Love you guys!**_


	4. Chapter 3: Pepper

_**A/N: Hellooo everybody! So sorry that I didn't update last week and that I'm late this week. I was out of town but I should have made time for you. I'll try to make up for it with this chapter. I'm also very very happy this week though. My bestie is coming up to visit me today and school is starting soon and I wrote the first part of this during commercial breaks of one of my favorite shows. I hope you guys are having as great of a week as me, and if not, I hope my writing eases your pain for a little while! Love you guys!**_

**Chapter 3- Pepper**

"You're staying home." Tony said with finality, standing up and stretching. I shook my head and stood as well grabbing his hand as he tried to leave.

"There's no way. I have a ton of work to get done and there is no way you will get it done. I'm going to work and there's nothing you can do to stop…" Tony halts my words with a kiss and despite my slowly rising annoyance, I feel myself relaxing. He doesn't let me go until I'm too breathless to talk. With the ease of long practice, Tony takes a deep, steady breath to regain his breath and pulls on a strand of my hair.

"You've earned a break, Alyssa needs a new wardrobe and you need a shopping day with a girlfriend. You're not going to work. As the owner of Stark Industries, I order you to take a day off." Before I can protest, he kisses me again and I know that this is one thing he's going to be stubborn about. I know I can win this, regardless, but for some reason. I don't really want to. When he releases me I just nod.

"Fine, but if you don't finish at least half of your paperwork by 3:00, I'm coming in and finishing it myself." Tony smiles, pulling on his shoes and stepping into the elevator with a cocky wave good-bye.

The silence was complete after he left, except for the soft hum of the air-conditioning. Walking into the kitchen, I made myself a pot of peppermint tea, sipping it and tapping my fingers agitatedly on the counter. I hated being home with nothing to do. Turning on my tablet, I answered a few company emails before receiving a text. Opening the message, I can almost hear Tony's reproachful, but playful voice in the typed words.

"No working. Don't make me text u again. U have been warned." Rolling my eyes, I signed out of my email. I'd forgotten how well-wired in he was. With an exasperated sigh, I rinsed my cup, placing it in the dishwasher none too gently. What was I supposed to do to fill up my day? Without work, I had nothing to do.

Picking up a rag, I started scrubbing down every surface I could find, but due to Jane's OCD cleaning fanaticism and her staying at home most of the time meant that everything in the house was sparkling. Throwing the rag into the sink, I froze as a soft laugh sounded musically behind me. Turning around, I saw Alyssa standing with her hand on the back of the couch, dressed in an old pair of my work-out shorts and a t-shirt of Natasha's. I relaxed. She laughed softly again.

"What's up? By the sound of your exasperated sighs and the fact that you're home, I'd say you're pretty annoyed." I couldn't help but smile at that.

"Tony made me stay home. I've got nothing to do and I don't do well without things to do." She laughs once more and I can't help but laugh along. Then I remembered what Tony had said about her wardrobe. Looking at her I have to agree with his statement.

"Why don't we go shopping? I need some time away and you need some clothes. We can have a girl's day out." She seems a little nervous at the idea of a shopping trip, but nods and smiles weakly.

"That sounds like fun. I'll go change." Turning, she felt her way along the wall, softly clicking the door shut.

"That was… odd." I went to my room, changing quickly and picking my purse up off the dresser. Going to Alyssa's door, I knocked softly and opened the door. She was just pulling on her shirt on, a light blue t-shirt from Jane. She was wearing her pair of worn, loose jean cutoffs, newly washed but still ragged. Turning at the sound of my footsteps, she tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Just let me grab my shoes, and by mine I mean yours that you have been so kind to let me borrow." I laughed softly and together, her arm through my elbow, we headed to the elevator.

"We'll have a great time. You'll see." I whispered, pressing the button for the ground floor.

Happy dropped us off at the front door of one of my favorite little shops sandwiched between two larger department stores. I led Alyssa to the door, pushing it open to the tinkle of a hidden bell and the smell of the vanilla and coconut candles that the owner always kept burning behind the counter. The girl smiled and inhaled deeply, enjoying the relaxing atmosphere as much as I was. Tony was right; I really did need a day off.

"Hello Mrs. Stark! It's so nice of you to drop by again. What are you here for today?" Janette, the owner's perky daughter comes out of the back with a bright smile and her long, dark hair braided down her back.

"Hey Janette. I'm just here to get a whole new wardrobe for my cousin. It's our little girl's day out treat, and Mr. Stark is paying for all of it." She laughs, her eyes closing in pure mirth and Alyssa and I can't help but join in.

"Well, we can definitely help you with that. Does she have a style preference? Color preference?" I turned slightly and looked down, trying to decide what she would look best in. The days were growing warmer and she had sensitive skin, so light, soft fabrics; flattering cuts that showed her figure without being form-fitting and were comfortable without being loose; some bright colored accessories, but mostly white, tan, and pastels for base colors because of her pale skin.

"Let's start with some casual, every-day wear. Light, soft fabrics, pastels or darks, flattering cut. Start with size four pants and small tops see where we should go from there." Janette nodded eagerly, already running through the inventory of the store in her mind. She pointed to a door near the back, which opened to a small room containing three, tall, standing mirrors around a small pedestal and a bench for onlookers.

We sat on the cushioned bench, me taking out my phone to try to sneak in a couple more emails before Tony caught me and Alyssa sitting straight with her hands firmly clenched in her lap. She seemed nervous, but excited and her knee was bouncing ever so slightly as tension drew lines on her petite shoulders and back. I wondered what she was so worried about.

We didn't have long to wait. A few minutes later, Janette bustled in, arms bristling with hangers, tops, jeans and shorts. The stack was so tall that she could barely see around it. I stood up quickly and helped her plop the whole stack into a chair. Janette stood up quickly, planting her hands firmly on her hips and nodding with satisfaction.

"There." She said, already pawing through the pile for an outfit to start with. "That should be enough to give us a good start." I raised an eyebrow, but having never been led astray by Janette's sense of fashion, I trusted her judgment. When she pulled out a pale yellow, flowy, scoop-necked top and a pair of dark-wash jean capris, I took them from her and led Alyssa to the dressing room to change. Handing her the outfit and shutting the door, I went back to the bench to watch. Thus began the fashion show.

An hour and a half later, we had selected nine tops, three undershirts, three pairs of shorts, two pairs of long jeans, and two pairs of slacks: one black and one tan. We had also chosen three pairs of flats, two pairs of sandals, and a pair of sneakers. The whole time, Alyssa had seemed distant, mostly agreeing with whatever we said and nodding when we asked her if she liked something. I had had to make most of the final decisions because she refused to talk. Janette rang up our purchases and I paid with the company credit card. I'd put some of Tony's money in its place later.

Handing our bags to Happy, we walked a little ways to a café and ate lunch. Alyssa was still pretty quiet, but I was determined that during our last stop, she would decide what she wanted or we wouldn't get anything. I managed to finish answering the emails I wanted to without catching Tony's notice and so was feeling pretty good when we set out for another little shop on the other side of Broadway. We had been driving for a couple of minutes when Alyssa started talking. Not towards me, but away, as though she was talking to herself, but I knew I was supposed to hear.

"I've never really been shopping, but I always imagined it would be fun. Hanging out, looking good, getting clothes that didn't come out of a charity bin. Something my mom and I could do together." She took a deep breath, trying to hold back the emotion in her voice. When she spoke again, her voice was low and steady.

"I never imagined it would be like this. I can feel the fabrics slide on and I can feel how they move, but I don't know how they look. With each other, with me, with the accessories you piled on. They just all felt pretty much the same to me. I don't like shopping because I can't know what I look like, and because I know I'm not pretty enough for all the expensive clothes you're buying me. I don't have any way to pay you back either and that's a big weight on my conscience. Let's just go home."

A silence fell in the car, broken only by the faint, but endless honkings and screechings of the City that Never Sleeps. I felt something inside me break as I stared at this petite, dark-haired, pale skinned young woman who could not picture herself as pretty. Leaning over to look into her face, I took in the small nose, the sweet, sensitive mouth, the clear, blue-gray eyes and the delicate lines of her cheekbones and jaw. She was beautiful. Despite the faintly purple circles under her eyes and the cuts healing on her cheek and forehead, she was a stunning young woman.

"You are a beautiful young woman. And it's not just in your looks. It's in your heart. And that's not just my automatic Hallmark card answer. I know you can't see it, but you have to believe me, because I've never said a truer word in my life." Alyssa doesn't move, but a tear trickles down her cheek. After a moment, I take her in my arms and her silent tears flow more thickly. Her thin shoulders shake in my grip and I just hold her, whispering little comforting phrases in her ear as she slowly brought herself under control.

We drove up to the store and she wipes her eye, smiling at me weakly.

"Come on. I saw this the other day and I think it'll fit you perfectly." I led her out of the car and straight to the manager, and with a short whisper from me, he nodded and we went to the dressing room. He came back bearing a black garment bag and Alyssa took it, stepping in and shutting the door.

After several minutes she called out, "Pepper, can you help me with the fastenings?" Stepping in, I slid the zipper up her back as she lifted her hair up off her neck. Then, we left together, and she stepped up a couple of steps to the door on top of the pedestal. Opening the door, we stepped into the room of mirrors.

Alyssa stood to her full height of 5' 5" in a dark, royal blue, silky dress that fell to her ankles. The bodice was decorated with little silver and white beads in the shape of a star at her left hip and the trails swooping up to her right shoulder. The skirt was the same dark blue, with a fine net of silver embroidery over the top and a pale blue silky underskirt as well as several other layers that held the skirt out just a bit all around. Every so often in the embroidery, a white bead was sewn into the pattern, giving the distinct impression that Alyssa was wearing the whole night sky on her dress. White silk gloves that fit her tiny hands perfectly were added, stopping just above her elbow. Slipping on a pair of silver heels and a silver chain necklace with a pearl pendant, and with a quick do up job from the salon next door, Alyssa looked absolutely resplendent. I paid for the whole thing and took a picture before shooing everyone out and standing with Alyssa alone again, watching her as her shoulders started to shake again.

"What's wrong?" I said, worried that we had overwhelmed her. Her hands gently ran over the skirt, catching on the tiny beads, and then she raised her head, her hands coming up to touch the delicate features. No tears traced down her face, but she looked… I couldn't place it.

"Am I really beautiful?" She whispered, looking pleadingly into the mirror. I smiled gently, pulling her into a tight hug.

"Nope." I said back and she pulled back, looking stricken. I almost laughed before I realized she probably hadn't had this one pulled on her.

"You're not beautiful. You are gorgeous." I said, and this time, I really did laugh as her face relaxed and she laughed along.

"Thanks." She said, wiping her eyes.

"You're welcome." I said, throwing an arm around her shoulders and leading her out.

"Let's go home."

_**A/N: There you go. Please review. I ain't got no more time. Love you guys. Till next week. **_


	5. Chapter 4: Clint

_**A/N: Welcome all! Hope those of you who are already in school had an at least OK week. And those of you who start this coming week, good luck! Either way, I'm baa-aack (run in fear! Mwahahaha! **____** )! This, I think is going to be my favorite chapter to write. I could be wrong. I'll let you know at the end **____**. Also, I just want you all to check out my new story on FictionPress called **__**Treasure of a Thousand Fables**__**. I will probably be updating that every Monday. I've already got several chapters written so I don't believe I will get behind on that one. Anyway, enjoy!**_

**Chapter 4: Clint**

Halfway through my third episode of Castle and my fourth plate of Chinese food, Alyssa came down the hallway, felt her way to the couch on my left and sat down. She was wearing an old pair of Natasha's shorts and a t-shirt from Jane, the only things she had kept from the other women's wardrobes. I stuffed another forkful of rice into my mouth, my knee bouncing as I tried to find some outlet for my excessive amounts of energy.

"Who's in here?" She asked, her voice soft and low. I noticed a catch in her tone, as though her throat were raw. That, combined with her red eyes and the slightly moist patches on her shirt, told me she had been crying. Setting down my plate on the couch next to me, though far enough away that it wouldn't tip if I shifted, I turned down the volume on the commercials. My slight annoyance at having nothing to do on a Friday night was forgotten as concern for the girl takes its place.

"Clint." I replied, watching her face as she nodded. Finally, I asked, "Is everything all right? You seem down." She stiffened slightly, her expression shifting into a nearly inscrutable mask. It reminded me, somewhat uncannily, of Natasha when we first met: never showing emotions and extremely protective of any sign that she felt pain. Alyssa sat up straight and cleared her throat before answering.

"Everything's fine." Her tone was firm, but underneath, I could sense a fragility. Something was really bothering her, and it seemed as though she was in over her head on this one. I realized, with some slight surprise, that it hurt me to know she was hurting. I really was going soft.

"You don't have to hide it." I said quietly, not sure if I wanted her to hear it or not. Her eyes flashed, then they dimmed. Slowly, gradually, she curled up; first she brought her knees up, then she dropped her head onto them and wrapped her arms around them. She took a shuddery breath, then another. I looked away, searching for something to do. If I didn't focus on her, she could let herself cry without her pride interfering. I finally picked up my plate and went to do the dishes. I had just finished placing the few dishes into the dishwasher when I heard her voice, pained and torn, call out from the other room.

"Why am I so useless? What did I do to deserve this curse? What am I supposed to do with my life? I am completely useless! I can't do anything. Why?" Her sobs grew louder, but soon quieted as I put all the leftovers from my dinner in the fridge. Once I felt I had given her enough time, I sat down beside her and gently pulled her into an embrace. At first she resisted my touch, but soon she relaxed and her shaking breath regulated. I didn't let go, and she didn't pull back.

Finally, I stood, and pulled her up with me.

"Come on. I want to show you something."

We went down to the training room and I led her through some stretches, describing the motions and helping her to position her limbs correctly. As they grew more difficult, I watched her begin to focus on the movement of her body instead of on the pain in her mind. When we were both panting and sweaty, I called a break and we both gulped water.

"How do you feel now?" I questioned, wiping beads of sweat from my face. She poured more water into her mouth and swallowed, sending me a smile when her mouth was empty.

"Better." I nodded. Next exercise then.

"Now we're going to test something. I'm going to put you in the middle of the sparring ring and try to sneak up on you. When you think you know where I am, turn in my direction. I'll let you know if you're right." She nodded, although she looked confused. I led her to the ring and placed her near the center, then told her to cover her ears and count to twenty before putting her hands down. She complied and I went outside the circle and composed my breathing. When I was certain it was all but silent, I stepped lightly onto the slightly raised platform. My bare feet ghosted over the springy surface and I kept my eyes directly on Alyssa's face. She was breathing quietly and slowly and her head was turning ever so slightly from side to side. After a moment, just as I let out the last wisp of a long breath, when I was still about five feet to her left, she grinned and turned to face directly at me. I stood straight and took a long, deep breath, rubbing the back of my head ruefully.

"You found me. How did you do it so fast?" She grinned and shrugged.

"When you get to the end of a breath, you make a little, high pitched squeak in the back of your nose. I can't hear most of it, but the end is lower in pitch and if I focus on that, I can find you. Besides, I felt your foot vibrations on that last step. Have you hurt your right calf or ankle anytime recently? You put that foot down slightly heavier than the other." I was speechless. I'd heard of people who lost one sense only to have the others strengthen exponentially, but I hadn't really believed it. Until now. And in fact, on the last mission I had partially ripped my Achilles tendon. It had healed, but it still pulled a bit if I overused it. I hadn't noticed the difference in the weight I put on it though. I laughed.

"Well, I guess we won't do it again. You found things I didn't even know about, so I guess we'll stop that. How about we test your sense of touch? Wait here a second." I went into the hall and asked Jarvis if there was any modeling clay in the house.

"Yes sir." The voice came from the ceiling. "It's in the lab closet, the one in the southwest corner; on the left, on the third shelf from the bottom." I nodded.

"Thanks Jarv."

"Don't mention it sir." I went down a level and maneuvered around the tables and equipment to the storage closets on the south end.

"Hey Bruce." I greeted our favorite green buddy, who at the moment was a white-jacketed scientist. He waved above the screen of his laptop and gave a sort of grunt. I took it to mean, 'Hi. Nice to see you. I'm still working so have a nice evening.' Good ol' Bruce. I grabbed a stick of the white clay and a random knick-knack-it looked like a monkey face made of metal- off the table.

"Can I take this or is it going to blow up in my face?" Bruce looked up, glanced to the object in my hand.

"No it's fine. Just a piece Tony tore off his suit last week after that messy battle." I gave him a thumbs-up and took the stairs back up to the training room. Alyssa had settled herself on the bench by the door and was staring at her hands. I tapped her shoulder. The speed of her reaction in grabbing my wrist and squeezing surprised me.

"Whoa, take it easy! It's just me." She relaxed and smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry." I waved her off, then realized she couldn't see me.

"It's fine. And that's not a bad reaction time either." She grinned. I placed the clay and the monkey face in her hand.

"I want you to recreate the shape of that piece of metal as closely as you can from that clay. I'm not allowed to talk to you; you have twenty minutes, go." She frowned, but nodded, putting down the clay and running her fingers over the metal. I grabbed my bow and quiver off of the rack nearby and set up a bunch of targets. I had to do something while she was working.

Three quivers of arrows and thirty destroyed targets later, I walked back over to Alyssa and squirted some water into my mouth. Gulping it and wiping off my face, I looked at what she had.

"Let's see what you got, kiddo." She tweaks one more thing, then presents me with a nearly perfect replica of the bullet-pounded metal shoulder plate. It wasn't as smooth, and a few of the dimensions were off, but otherwise, it was exactly the same. Taking both the clay model and the original in my hands, I looked at them next to each other. The resemblance was unmistakable.

"Wow." That was all I could think to say. She was a very skilled sculptor.

"How bad is it?" She said, and I realized that she had mistaken my 'wow' to mean it was a bad remake.

"It's amazing. You're really talented." She shook her head, sadness and anger crossing her face.

"I bet you're just humoring me. I can't sculpt any more than I can read or write or draw or shoot an arrow. I'm useless. I can't do anything. I couldn't save myself, I couldn't save my mom and I definitely couldn't keep Aidan from leaving." So that was the root of the problem. She blamed herself for tearing her family apart. And since her father had used her blindness as an excuse to cause all of it, she assumed it was something wrong with her. I found that I really hated that man for reducing this girl, his own daughter, to believe that she was useless. I sat down beside her, resting my elbows on my knees and running a hand through my hair with a sigh.

"No. I mean it. You're amazing! You should definitely try doing something from your own mind sometime soon. I bet it would be beautiful, just like you." I decided not to refer to the last part of her statement. She shook her head again, tears filling her eyes and threatening to spill over her cheeks.

"It wasn't your fault, you know." The words were out of my mouth before I realized I was thinking them. The tears started in earnest then, although not a sound escaped her mouth and her face stayed impassive. I almost stopped, apologized, backtracked furiously, but something told me she needed to hear this.

"It's not your fault you were hurt. It's not your fault you became blind. It's not your fault you had an abusive, cruel, drinking father, a brother who walked out on you, and a mother who couldn't protect you. Stop blaming yourself. And you aren't useless; you are beautiful and talented." The tears flowed thicker and, for the second time that night, I enfolded her in my arms. This time, she relaxed immediately and leaned into my shoulder. Her silent sobs shook her body as I pulled her into my lap, hugging her tightly and gently running my hand over her hair.

_Why am I doing this? _I wondered. As an agent, I prided myself on being hard and emotionless. But something about this girl destroyed the walls around my heart and turned me into Jell-O. What was it? The answer came swiftly, without much effort. She reminded me of myself: ten years old and standing outside my parents little cottage in the country. I was wounded and shocked and scared, sure that the massacre of my parents by assassins was somehow my fault. That night, I was picked up by the circus and they became my new home. Until… I stopped the memory there, but the meaning was clear. I cared, because I had felt her pain.

"It's ok. Just let it out. I've got you. You're ok." I whispered in her ear, over and over, comforting her, but allowing her to release her pent up emotions. We sat there for several minutes, and even then it was only broken by my carrying her up to her room to sit on her bed. We sat there for a long time more, until finally she cried herself out and fell asleep, still cuddled against my chest with my arms still around her. I found myself reluctant to let go.

Natasha came home from her surveillance mission about ten minutes later and found me still in Alyssa's room. She walked in, completely silent to my ears, and sat beside me, a rare look of tender concern on her face.

_What happened? _The raise of her eyebrow said. I sent her a look that replied, 'I'll tell you later' and smoothly stood to put Alyssa in bed. Natasha also stood, turning to pull the covers back. I laid the sleeping girl down and pulled the covers over her, leaning over to run my thumb along her forehead one last time. She never stirred. Natasha led me out, closing the door behind us and quieting Tony, who was standing behind us with a giggling Pepper in his arms. We retired to our room.

"So?" I yawned at her question, walking to the bed and laying down on my side. I patted the space beside me. Natasha slipped out of her catsuit and pulled on one of my t-shirts before settling down with her head on my chest and my arm around her. Only then did I speak.

"She shared some of the demons of her past and I helped her begin to vanquish them. It'll take time, but she'll be ok." Natasha nodded against my chest. I thought the conversation was over. But Natasha was no fool.

"And you?" She had seen the demons from my past behind my eyes and wasn't about to let the subject drop.

"I'll be ok too." I said, allowing my eyes to close. Natasha nodded again and we fell asleep together. As I drifted off, I felt as though a large rift inside me was being sealed again; like an open wound was being healed. I wasn't alone, and that was enough. And now, neither was Alyssa.

_**A/N: Not as much fun as I thought… Hmmm. Let me know what you think. I know this wasn't my best work, but cut me some slack. Mother Nature is beating me up right now, I think I deserve a little leeway. Have a great weekend and I'll see you next week!**_


	6. Chapter 5: Loki

_**A/N: Hey y'all! I am so super sorry I'm late, but it was the first week of school. From now on, my update day is Saturday, that way I won't be late anymore. This time, the fact that I'm more than one day is my dad's fault, but everyone has bad days so don't get mad at him. I'm not. Anyway, happy birthday to my little sissy. And I'm going to be asking for special reviews this week so be sure to read the other author's note at the end. Enjoy!**_

__**Chapter 5: Loki**

The walls of my prison, though they appear ethereal and unsubstantial, both block my view of the area around me and dampen my powers, not to mention keep me contained. The cell is sparsely furnished, with only a hard cot, a table, a chair, and a stack of books to break the monotony of dark purple walls, floor and ceiling. The books are traded out for new selections every time I am allowed a rare visit by Thor or Odin, and although I pretend contempt for the Midgardian novels, they are the only things keeping me from insanity.

I'm about to start into my third read of the Midgardian fantasy _The Fellowship of the Ring _when my guard alerts me to a visitor scheduled for the day. While I scoff and reopen the book, the very image of disinterest, on the inside I'm full of curiosity. It's only been a week since my last visitor; it should be at least three more till I receive another. And usually, they are unannounced and unexpected. Unable to contain my curiosity, I put down the book and sit at the table, putting on my 'bored and above all' face. My patience is soon rewarded.

A portion of the wall shimmers and turns transparent, exposing the face of my bro- no, Thor. He is carrying not one, but two chairs, and I raise an eyebrow.

"Good morning, brother. His greeting is polite and warm, but I answer with pretended spite.

"I am not your brother! Why do you bother me?" He knows my anger is false, and he knows that I would not act so if I didn't have someone to keep up appearances for. Entering the cell, he reveals in his wake a young woman clinging to his shirt. Her face is set in an expression that shows no emotion, so I have no idea what she's thinking. But something about her eyes and the way she moves her head sends up a flag in my mind. This human is different from the ones I have met in the past. Thor sets the chairs down and leads the girl to one of them. He sits beside her, across the small table from me.

"Brother, I've come on a request by this young woman. She is called Alyssa and she is staying at the Tower with us at the moment. She heard me speak of you and wished to meet you. Father and I agreed if I came and if an extra guard were present that it would be safe enough. I do warn you though, if you present any danger, I will not hesitate to fight to the death for her safety." It's obvious that this girl has Thor- I carefully avoid the word 'brother', even in thought- wrapped neatly around her little finger. I scoff.

"And why would I be so stupid as to extend my sentence in this miserable corner of the universe for the simple pleasure of a Midgardian girl's scream? You cannot seriously believe I would do something so petty." My eyes dart to the girl as I say this, and I am surprised by her lack of response. Thor, on the other hand, reacts instantly.

"You know that I do not. But I believe it wise to warn you all the same." His voice is tight and his face shows that he was hurt by the implication that he might not know me as well as he thinks. He still hangs so tightly to our closeness in the past that it's only too easy to pester him in this matter. The girl surprises me yet again when she speaks.

"Come now boys. No need to argue. I don't believe that protecting me will be an issue. For all his venom and bluster, Loki doesn't wish to harm me, so let's just stop fighting like little children." Both of us whip our heads to her, Thor with a slightly delayed laugh and I with my eyes flashing in shocked anger. Alyssa doesn't seem to notice the eyes on her and only smiles, a half self-satisfied, half remembering smile. My curiosity is tickled yet again.

"Now that we are here, might I ask why you requested to see my brother?" Thor breaks the moment.

"I just wanted to ask him a few questions. Are you prepared to answer?" Her head moves slightly toward me, but her eyes stay pointing towards the table. I got the feeling that she wasn't trying to keep my eyes from meeting hers, but why would such a bold, self-assured young girl keep her eyes lowered.

"I will answer if the question amuses me." She nods and licks her lips, the first sign of nervousness I've seen.

"What, in your opinion, is the reason why you turned to what so many have deemed to be evil?" The question stuns me, momentarily turning my silver tongue to putty. No one has ever asked me for my side of the story. I've just been ignored as evil, less than human. Anger surges in me and I spit out the first thing that comes to mind.

"Everyone lied to me my whole life. I had to set everything right and show those who wrongfully harmed me what real pain was. It was fair, not cruel. I was denied my birthright and I was proving to the only one I ever wanted approval from that I could make him proud." My eyes became wet but I pushed the tears back as though they didn't exist and clenched my teeth. Why was I reacting like this? She nodded sagely, making me feel both annoyed and calmed. She was really listening and not lecturing me.

"Can I give you a scenario and have you tell me what you would do?" I nod and she continues, her shoulders rounding slightly as she speaks.

"What if you were handicapped and your father started drinking and beating you and your mom until he finally kicked you out on the street? What would you have done?" Suddenly, I realize what is different about her: She's blind. Why hadn't I seen it before? I realize at the same instant that this scenario is her own. She's asking me for advice on what to do now.

"Truthfully, I have no idea. But I do know one thing: Revenge is a path for those who don't want to get anywhere in life." What am I saying? My entire existence recently has been for revenge; revenge on the man who called me son for my whole life; revenge on the one-time brother who stood over me and blocked my every advance; revenge on everyone who hadn't seen me for what I truly was: a ruler.

"But he treated me- you lower than dirt your whole life and made your brother leave you. Don't you hate him?"

Thor looks surprised at her anger, but I ignore him and continue saying what I truly believe. I push aside what is expected and what everyone expects of me and tell her the truth.

"He will never hurt me again. I've got a new family and that part of my life is over. I'm going to just move on and try not to make the same mistakes as he did. Maybe I'll leave an anonymous tip with the police to go help my mom, but I'll move on and never worry about it again." She nods, but the red in her face and the shaking of her shoulders show her silent sobs. I push down the sudden urge to take her hand and comfort her. What am I doing? I am Loki: trickster, betrayer, destroyer. I should be laughing at this girl's pain, reveling in it. Why am I feeling this sorrow? I try to push my face into a smile, but I recognize something. I really don't like watching this naked pain. I'm tired of acting like I don't care, because I do. I want to be able to stop this hurting and revenge and just start over.

"How am I supposed to just forgive him?" Alyssa sobs out. "I can't forget what he did to me for ten years. And I'll never, ever forgive him. He doesn't deserve it." This time, I really do reach out to take her hand, noting but ignoring the motion of Thor's hand toward his hammer.

"It takes time. And no, he doesn't deserve it. But then again, neither do I. And my…" I suck in a deep breath and push through the phrase quickly. "Brother has forgiven me so I believe that he is a much better person than I. He rose above the hurt of betrayal and became the better man. You can do the same. But don't push it. Just let it happen over time."

"Time's up." The guard growls and Thor stands and stretches.

"We must return to earth brother." I nod and Alyssa stands quickly.

"Thank you for your cooperation." She says quietly, already completely composed. I stand as well, leaning down to kiss her hand, the way I was taught as a child.

"I hope you have better luck than I in healing. Although I believe that perhaps now I can have better luck. Do try to visit again." She smiles and nods, curtseying with a blush. Thor ushers her to the door and the wall solidifies behind him. I lay down on my bed, trying to calm the rush of thoughts in my mind. Everything seems different now. Forgiveness and repentance are equally in reach and now, I actually believe I can and will do it. I'm not alone anymore. Whether I see her again or not, I know that she is feeling the same pains as I and I know that I will never forget her courage and trust. I've got a long way to go, but I know now I can do it.

_**A/N: Not my best, I know. But I have a question for you all. Should I do a Tony and/or Bruce chapter? I'm having a hard time writing them, mostly because I have no idea what to do between them and Alyssa. So this next chapter is your chapter. You send me your ideas and I will do my best to fit them into a story line for the next chapter. No ideas, I skip Tony and Bruce all together.**_ _**Please review or PM your ideas so that we can have fun with this. Love you guys! Have a great week!**_


	7. Chapter 6: Bruce and Tony

_** A/N: Hey y'all! This week has been crazy, but I'm very glad that I got to find time to write this. I asked you guys what you wanted and thanks to the time put forward by aidni999, this chapter came into being. Thank you a lot! I didn't quite have enough for either to make a good chapter, so I combined the two. Enjoy!**_

**Chapter 6: Bruce and Tony**

**Part 1: Bruce**

The little voice in my head is sending me warnings faster than I can comprehend them, but I know what they're saying all too well: _Calm down before the Other Guy comes out and you hurt someone. _My breathing is heavy and strained as I curl up on the floor of my spare, neat bedroom at the Tower. I've got to get hold of myself, but I don't even know what set me off. My mind is spinning and I let out a strangled growl and clench my hands into fists so tight that my hands turn white. I can't help it. My consciousness slowly slides into the back of my mind and a primal, simple rage takes over. I feel my body growing and see my clothes fall in shreds to the floor with the exception of my specially-made pants that stretch and shinny up my legs to create form-fitting, knee-length shorts instead.

The Hulk rises to his feet with a roar and crashes through the wall into the hall with no consideration whatsoever for the wall on the other side. Leaving a dent in the wall of the bedroom, The Hulk stumbles to the living room and leaps through the ceiling to the roof.

Once outside, the cool evening air somewhat calms the Hulk. Letting out a half-satisfied, grunting sigh he walks toward the edge and stands on the very edge of the precipice, staring out over the colorfully lit city. He lets out a primeval roar and throws out his arms, daring the thunderclouds above. As though in reply, a blue bolt of lightning strikes the point of the rod that tickles the bellies of the clouds at the top of the Tower. Thunder almost immediately booms across the landscape, challenging the Hulk back. The air goes from being clear to being filled with sheets of cold rain in an instant and soon Hulk is soaked. The Hulk races to the top of the Tower and climbs the rod. He roars and yells and howls at the sky, but the thunder drowns him out.

Everything at that moment goes a little fuzzy and the Hulk came to in the roofless living room, wet and not alone. At his side, leaning over with her hand on his chest over his heart, kneels Alyssa. She seems concerned and she's soaked to the skin and shivering.

"Who is this?" Her small voice asks with a fearful quiver. The Hulk sits up, scaring her into scrambling back against the couch, and slowly gets to his feet. He walks over slowly, shielding her from the rain by standing just above her.

"Why are you scared? And why don't you look at Hulk?" She shivers more violently as the wind whistles down the hole in the roof and the Hulk gently picks her up and presses her to his chest. Stiffening at first, she realized that her wasn't going to hurt her and snuggled closer. The Hulk had never been gentler, feeling his heart warming and his mind calming. As he relaxed, he slowly shrunk until I was just Bruce Banner again, shirtless and wet and cold and holding a petite young woman in my shaking arms.

"I'm so sorry you had to…" I realize what I'm about to say and change my statement. "I'm sorry I scared you. I don't know what happened. I think the Hulk must have gotten struck by lightning." Carrying her to her room, I set her inside. She quickly reaches out for the doorframe as she regains her balance.

"I wasn't really scared. I knew that the Hulk wasn't all bad. You shouldn't be so afraid of him. He's just part of you. You both need each other and besides, he's a big softie inside. Goodnight Doctor."

"Bruce." I say with a smile.

"Bruce." She replies, also smiling. She closes the door and I return to mine. Quickly changing into dry clothes, I climb into bed. I haven't felt so safe and relaxed in a long time. She knows the Hulk and isn't afraid of him. She likes him, she trusts him. The girl who has been abused her whole life isn't afraid of the Hulk. She isn't afraid of me. It's all going to be ok; I'm going to be ok. It doesn't matter what had set me off, I feel sure I can control him now. He may be a klutz, but he really is just an overprotective teddy bear. I smile softly and fall asleep, safe and warm in the trust one girl has placed in me.

**Part 2: Tony**

"Just clean off your desk so you can find everything you need when you need it. It won't take long if you stay on task. I'm going to work and I want it done when I get home. Got it?" I roll my eyes at Pepper. She's been telling me this for three weeks, every day. I still haven't done it. I tried to explain to her at first that I had everything organized the way I liked it- in one big pile- and that she should let me do it my way. But she had that hard shine in her eye she hadn't had before and she now dished it to me liberally in her glare.

"I mean it Tony. You've got to make this a habit. When our new arrival shows up, everything has to be baby-proofed so it's safe. That means your desk is the first thing. It's atrocious. Take care of it or I will." I knew it was no empty threat. I also knew that her version of cleaning meant that she threw away everything that she didn't deem absolutely necessary. Besides, she had mentioned the magic motivator: our newly-discovered baby. It made me smile just to think about it, and I definitely didn't want to be more of a terrible father than I was going to be, so I nodded and sighed dramatically.

"Fine. I guess I can put a few minutes into it. Have a great day honey and don't worry about a thing. I'll be waiting with a sparkly clean desktop when you get home." I give her a lingering kiss as she heads for the door to the elevator. She pecks me back and steps in, pressing the button for the lobby. The door slide shut between us and my fake happy face drops like a sack of potatoes as my whole body slumps.

"I hate cleaning." I grumble, heading upstairs to the kitchen. Pouring a glass of apple juice from the fridge, I head back downstairs to the lab and find an open space on the community counter for the juice. I survey the stack of random odds and ends on my desk and trying to decide where it's safest to start. The top left seems the most stable so I start there, methodically tossing papers into the recycling can and bits of metal into the scrap bin and screws into a bucket. My flash drives I take to the computer and download the information quickly, chucking the empty drives into a drawer. Pencils and pens I drop into a cup on the corner of my desk.

My mind wanders into an unending cycle of self-hatred and hatred of my task and so I'm not prepared when I slip my hand into a stack of crumpled paper and suddenly feel a painful prick. Yanking my hand out, I stick my bleeding finger into my mouth. The salty, metallic flavor of blood coats my tongue, making me screw my face into an expression of disgust. Making my way to the first aid kit on the wall by the door I pull a gauze pad out and press it tightly to the wound. For such a small cut, it was bleeding heavily. I hissed softly as the pain increased, glancing up from the white cloth when I heard a step on the stairs.

"What happened? Are you ok? I assume that's Tony." Alyssa comes around the corner and nearly runs into me. Feeling my elbow brush against her shoulder, she steps back slightly with a surprised look on her face.

"Hey, Alyssa. Yeah it's me and I just cut myself. No problem." She nods. Finally, when I stop feeling fresh, warm pulses of blood under my thumb, I pull out a large band-aid and clumsily loop it around my finger, over the gauze. Not my best patch up job, but it'll hold.

"What are you doing that got you cut?" Alyssa says quietly, as though uncomfortable with the silence.

"Cleaning off my desk. I'll have to be more careful. What brings you down to my realm to visit?" As I speak, I head back to the desk, brushing the papers into the garbage can and trying to find the source of my cut.

"Just got lonely when I couldn't find anyone that wasn't training. Clint, Natasha, and Steve are sparring and Bruce is working on something on the roof. Pepper is at work and Jane and Thor are visiting Asgard and Loki. So I figured that since you were usually puttering about in the lab that I would check here. And don't ask me how, but I can tell there's something on your mind. So spill it." I stop my work in surprise, but not before I see a brown picture frame corner sticking out from under a sheet of paper. Lifting the paper, I reveal a photo of my father and me, taken the day before his fatal plane crash. I was wearing my fake smile and barely putting up with my father's arm around my shoulder, while he was grinning widely and seeming to enjoy the contact. The glass protecting the photo is shattered, accounting for the slice along my fingertip.

"Fathers. They don't seem so important when you're a kid, but then suddenly, you are one and you realize that you should have paid better attention because you have no idea what you're doing." I didn't realize that I was speaking until Alyssa answered my statement.

"I think I know what you mean. I sometimes feel like I don't know where to look for support because I never had any growing up. My dad never took care of me. The only reason I ever got anything to eat or clothes to wear was if my mom gave me some of her food or if she went to a charity drive and brought me something. I never knew what it was like to have a dad who loved me until I moved here. Now I have a whole family." I knew what she meant, after all, I had been alone except for Rhodey for a long time, and then it had just been me. Rhodey had moved and then, suddenly, I became Iron Man and I gained the courage to get Pepper. The Avengers have filled the rest of my life and now I have a whole family.

"You'll be a great dad. You want to know how I know?" She doesn't wait for me to answer. "Because you love Pepper and you love the baby. No matter what, you love them. So even though you'll make mistakes, you'll figure it out. Love always teaches you those things." Glancing up to her face, I see many feelings conflicting in her expression: contentment, sorrow, trust, and anger. I nod grimly, looking back at the picture and feeling a sudden, acute sense of regret. Until recently, I didn't know how much my dad really cared for me. I had hated him for the longest time that even now, sometimes I think of him with malice simply from habit. Now I know that for all his outer cover of cool detachment, I had been the most important thing in his life. He, like me, just didn't know how to show it. Pepper taught me that, and now I realize that I'm infinitely grateful for it.

Gently dumping the broken glass into the garbage, I set the picture on the clean half of my desk and surprise myself by walking over to Alyssa and awkwardly hug her, my arms resting on her shoulders and looping around behind her neck. I feel her shake beneath me and I pull back, thinking she's crying. To my surprise, she's laughing.

"That's not how you hug, silly. Either get down closer to my level or do this." Taking my hands, she leads them over her shoulders and pulls them together down in the middle of her back, then she extricates her arms and wraps them around my stomach. Lifting her head to look somewhat into my face, she smiles and laughs. "Got it?" I laugh back.

"Sure. But let's try the other way." Releasing her, I crouch down and wrap my arms around her middle, soon feeling her arms tightly around my neck. Now, anyone who knows me knows I'm not much of a hugger, or touch-er at all. But it felt so natural to stay there with that young woman's arms around me, not romantically, just my like the little sister I used to pretend I had. I didn't know how to hug little sisters, but in caring for Alyssa, I had learned. She was right. Together with Pepper, I would learn how to be the dad I wanted to be. At least I could try.

_Thanks Dad. Thanks for trying. _I thought as I gave Alyssa one last squeeze and stood. _I'll make you proud. And I promise I'll take care of my kids, no matter what they look like, or how they see the world. I promise._


	8. Chapter 7: Fury

_**A/N: Hey everyone! Here is your second to last chapter, courtesy of my sisters' inability to keep our room clean! If you want a better explanation, feel free to PM or review… It all depends on you. Please enjoy and don't hate me if my Fury comes out really bad. I tend to have issues getting into most guys heads, if my previous attempts haven't shown you that already. Anyway, that's enough babbling from me. Here's your chapter, starring: Nick Fury!**_

**Chapter 7: Fury**

Paperwork; the least fun and most dreaded part of my whole job. At this point, I'm so tired of reading through reports and signing off everything from assassination missions to requests for more paperclips that I'm almost ready to quit and go back to being an agent. But the fate of the country rests in my hands, as usual, so I have to set my eye on the first line of type on the next piece of paper and start reading. Reading the first line a dozen times, I almost jump in my seat as a loud knock comes at the door.

"Yes, what is it?" I growl, trying to make it look like they're interrupting something important instead of saving my sanity. Looking up from the paper I'm not reading as the door opens, I'm met with the sight of my two best agents, and I almost smile.

"Barton, Romanoff, what is so important you have to interrupt my paper-signing session?" Anyone else in the whole department would take me seriously and beg for their lives at this point, but these agents have been around long enough to know that I hate paperwork and welcome distractions from it, even if I never say so. The Hawk grins and The Widow rolls her eyes, leading a young woman into the room. My eyebrow rises without permission, taking in the small, pale, dark-haired girl who is gripping Romanoff's hand. It's obvious from the way she moves that she's blind. Barton answers my unspoken question.

"We found her thrown out on the street by her father about three months ago and have been taking care of her. She is blind, but she's bright and talented. We knew we had a report to give on our reconnaissance mission that you requested be given in person, so we brought her along." The information to be given is classified, they shouldn't have brought her, but I also know that they wouldn't have if they think her untrustworthy and I trust their judgment. The girl will stay. I nod.

"Well?" Their report takes about a half-hour and the girl stays quiet the whole time, tying and untying complicated knots in a bit of ribbon that was holding back her hair. I notice that my eye is drawn by the motion, her slender fingers led by her sensitive skin in intricate patterns that I find impossible to follow. When the whole report has been given and recorded, I lean back in my chair as though contemplating the news they've brought. The decision was made long before their report was finished, but now I take the time to consider what's been troubling me: what has this girl done to make my hardened agents look at her like that? I haven't seen such loyalty and caring in their looks anywhere besides when they look at each other or at her.

"I'll send some agents to protect him and another team to take out the ringleader. It seems that that will send the whole organization crumbling. Now that that's settled, I'd like to have a little talk with this young lady here." Romanoff raises her eyebrows at this and our eyes lock in a silent conversation.

_Sir, what do you want with the girl?_

_I'm just going to ask a few questions. _

_What could she tell you?_

_I don't know. That's why I'm asking._

Finally, she nods and turns to the girl. After a few murmured words, she takes Barton by the hand and leads him out, sending a warning glare at me before the door closed. Turning back to the girl, I study her face. Thin and pale with barely visible scars on her cheek and forehead, graced with a slightly nervous smile. Leaning forward, I use my gentlest (speaking relatively) voice.

"What's your name?"

"Alyssa." Since she can't see me, I smile.

"A pretty enough name. Why'd your dad kick you out?" She winces and I regret the question. It just slipped out, but now that it's said, I realize I really do want to know. _What's wrong with me? _I think. _This girl's getting me wrapped around her little finger just like the Avengers. _Her response shatters my thoughts.

"He didn't want me around anymore." Her voice is quiet, but there's a distinctly hard edge to it.

"And why is that?" Again, she seems hurt by the question. She folds her arms protectively over her chest and frowns, making her seem far older than her perhaps fourteen years.

"I wasn't good enough for him. I wasn't perfect and the drink did the rest. One minute he's beating the crap out of me and the next, I'm out on the street." Her face, although set in a mask as impenetrable as the Black Widow's, is betrayed by the tears collecting in the corners of her eyes. Her voice, on the other hand, never wavers. Her resolution and strength surprise me. I change the subject quickly.

"Barton says you're talented. What talents do you have?" She shrugs.

"I'm told I'm a good sculptor. My senses of hearing and touch are better than most. I also can keep secrets well, I'm good at listening and for some reason everyone around me seems to like me but the one's I'm related to by blood." I laugh gruffly, catching her by surprise.

"What?" She asked, slightly annoyed at the fact that I seemed to be laughing at her skills. I wave my hand dismissively, even though she can't see it.

"No. That's not what I meant. They're good things to have. And I was just thinking of ways that you could be useful to our organization." She raises her eyebrow in a way that so reminds me of Agent Romanoff, I almost bust up laughing again. Again, I'm startled by how easy it is to laugh and frown and let my emotions show around her.

"How could a blind teenager do anything for big spy organization like S.H.I.E.L.D?" she asks skeptically. Pulling my emotions back under control, I sit back in my chair.

"Well, first off, every underestimates a blind person, so if you were an agent out on a mission, tongues would move more freely and you'd be in less danger. Second, no one could sneak up on you. You'd either feel or hear them, even in the darkest room or corridor. Third, secrets are our specialty. If you can keep them, you're useful to us. Fourth, if you've been through as much as your scars and attitude say, you won't break under stress. With a little training and a reliable partner, you could be one of our best agents." Her face has slowly shown more and more surprise as she realizes what I'm saying is true. And I know that I'm not just telling her this to save her feelings. When it comes to judging when skills will be useful, I know these things and I'm too blunt to lie.

"You think I could really be useful?"

"Training does wonders for filling in the gaps." She contemplates this.

"Are you making me an offer?" It's my turn to be surprised. I think for a moment and every problem I can think of falls into place.

"I guess if we can get a few people to agree, and your approval, we could get you set on a path to being an agent." She nods.

"I'll think about it." There seems to be nothing more to say. I stand and move to her stand, gently helping her to her feet and shaking her hand.

"I'll get the others on board so when your decision comes we can be ready in the case of a yes. I'll show you to the door." Leading her, we get to the door and open it, displaying a slightly nervous Romanoff and a standing Barton behind her chair.

"Here she is, safe and sound. Now, tonight at about 9, I need to have a teleconference with you too and… who's her legal guardian now?" I nodded toward Alyssa. The two agents looked at each other for a moment before nodding and turning back.

"Banner." Romanoff said with finality, Barton nodding in agreement. Alyssa's eyes lit up and a smile spread across her face.

"Alright then, he should be there too. We need to talk about something. Until then, agents." They saluted lazily and Barton took Alyssa's hand. I nodded slightly at Romanoff's questioning glance.

_What's this about Fury?_

_You'll see._

_**A/N: There you go! What do you think? Let me know! Please send me lots of reviews to make me cry and sob and wonder what I did to make such amazing readers as you guys pay attention to me… I don't know why you guys stay on, so maybe that should be my question of the week. Review and tell me what it is you like about my writing so I can keep doing it in my next story. Thanks and have an amazing weekend! **_


	9. Chapter 8: Coulson

_**A/N: Just a fair warning: I like Coulson so much, I choose to believe that he didn't really die and Fury just covered that up until he was sure that the Avengers were going to stick together. Coulson came back, was the best man at Natasha and Clint marriage and is still part of the crazy Avenger family. Thus, he gets to carry out the honors of having the point of view for the final chapter. Also, note that this chapter is six months after the last one. Please enjoy and be sure to review and vote (details in ending A/N). Thanks!**_

**Chapter 8: Coulson**

The lithe body of the girl flipped over the arm of her larger opponent with ease, landing solidly with all her weight on his foot. Clenching his teeth in pain, he threw his arms around her to hold her still, but she dropped to the ground, swung around his long leg and stood up quickly. Hopping back on one foot, she slammed the other squarely into the small of his back, throwing him off-balance and bringing him close enough to the ground for her to leap-frog over his back and grasp his neck with her legs. Her weight brought them both to the ground, but she let go at the last second and rolled back to her feet, leaving him slightly dazed on the ground. She stood still, hesitating as he laid there. Her ear was turned slightly towards his heavy breathing. As soon as he made it to his knees and put one foot heavily down to stand, she darted in, sending one jab into the hollow in the middle of his collarbone. With a strangled gasp, he dropped to the ground and lay on his back gasping. The skilled, but outmatched, man's throat was momentarily paralyzed and the girl took the opportunity to leap and stamp down on his stomach. A graceful flip was all it took and the man lay, gasping and retching on the floor while the girl stood a foot beyond his head and crossed her arms.

I stood just outside the one-way window, judging her performance and signing off her training form while the three people beside me each reacted to the obvious takedown. Natasha Romanoff smiled ruefully, obviously reminded of herself at that age. Clint Barton pumped his fist and gave a half-whispered "Yes!" and hugged his slightly annoyed wife. Nick Fury also signed a form, handed it to me and gave a single satisfied nod in the girl's direction.

"She's got to be one of our best trainees yet. She'll be ready for fieldwork by next month, you just wait." I nodded and saluted, watching him exit the room with pride swelling my heart.

In the last six months, Romanoff, Barton, Fury and I had done the impossible: we had trained a blind girl to the point where she would be a full agent of S.H.I.E.L.D in a month's time. She had learned to fight with a gun, a bow and her fist; she had strengthened her body and mind; she had learned to read Braille and speak three new languages. No doubt she would know a dozen after a year or two in the field. Alyssa Banner was shaping up to be almost as illustrious among spy and agents worldwide as her mentors.

Later that night, the Avengers plus myself, Fury, Maria Hill, Jane, Pepper and Rhodey all had a quiet (or at least as quiet as Tony Stark knows how) party to celebrate Alyssa passing her exam. Most people might have said it was chaotic and messy, but I've never seen a happier group sit down to eat (and throw) food, talk, and later dance together.

Tony and Pepper were smiling and laughing whenever they looked at each other the whole time, as if they shared a great secret. Rogers and Banner had the seats of honor on either side of Alyssa and they took the responsibility seriously. Her plate was never empty and no thrown food ever touched her simple red dress. Jane and Thor were quiet, but happy, still very much wrapped up in each other after only ten months of marriage. Natasha was also quiet, but Clint loudly proclaimed his pride in his protégée and was the main instigator of food fights, mainly with Tony and Rhodey. Fury, as usual, ate quickly, talked little, then retreated to a corner where he could see everything and smile all he wanted without people noticing half as much. Maria had to leave soon after the meal, and was the only one besides Fury and Alyssa who got away without food stains on their clothes. All in all, the night was a cozy, fun one.

The dancing was the best part of the night. Fury and I sat out, but each of the married men paired off with their wives, while Cap and Bruce took turns with the guest of honor. JARVIS pumped music of every type, tempo and mood through the speakers. Cap, Bruce and Alyssa all stuck to simple two and three step maneuvers, while Tony and Pepper were either just turning in circles or whispering in the corner. Jane and Thor tried a few more steps, laughing and poking jokes at each other's mistakes, but it was the last couple that really made the dance beautiful. Clint and Natasha almost never danced, but when they did, they did it with a grace and skill unparalleled by anything I had every seen. Every move looked as though it were preplanned, carefully practiced. But it was effortless, improvised and gorgeous. Come to think of that, they fought like that too, knowing each other so well that every motion seemed choreographed. It was indescribably stunning.

When the final song ended and the couples all flopped down on the couches, chairs and floors to rest, Tony and Pepper finally decided it was time to disclose their secret.

"We have an announcement to make." Pepper said loudly, capturing everyone's gaze in an instant. Tony's hand squeezed Pepper's slightly.

"I wanna tell them." He whispered loudly. She rolled her eyes and nodded, smiling the entire time.

"Pep and I are having a baby. He or she will be here in mid to late December." The statement was met with silence. Everyone seemed to have forgotten how to breathe. Then, the whole room exploded.

Jane squealed and raced to her side, pushing Clint over without ceremony. Congratulations echoed from every corner of the room and soon the beaming couple was torn apart. The guys, minus myself and Fury, yanked Tony to his feet, clapping him on the back and shaking his hand. The expecting mother was surrounded on either side by the two women, Natasha grinning while Jane talked incessantly. Alyssa came to her feet and knelt, leaning her head on Pepper's knees and closing her eyes. Pepper's hand strayed to Alyssa's hair and she nodded politely until Jane finally ran out of breath.

The noise took a while to calm down, but finally everyone returned to their seats and soft chatter reigned again over the living room. No one else seemed to notice when Alyssa silently stood and slipped up the stairs to the roof, her face unreadable. Following, I found her sitting with her forehead against a bar of the railing, listening intently to the sounds of the city below. By now, I knew her well enough to see the tension in her shoulders, the slight frown on the corner of her mouth and the hitch in her breathing.

"Is something wrong?" She took a deep breath and shrugged.

"I don't know. Everyone's just expecting so much of me and I don't know if I'm up to it. Sure, I can beat up a guy, but there's a lot more to being an agent than that. I'm worried that my… handicap… will endanger whoever gets put with me." I raised an eyebrow. She was worried about that? What was I supposed to say?

"Well, first off, for the foreseeable future, you will be partnered with Barton and Romanoff. Once we work out the kinks in your field performance we might issue you a different partner. And Fury was right. You are one of the best trainees we've had yet, so I wouldn't be worried. Besides, whoever gets put with you will know how to take care of themselves just as well as you, so they will have just as much potential to put you in danger as the other way around." It was her turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Really?"

"Yes, really." She breathed deeply again and nodded once. Her face was resolute as she swung herself to her feet.

"All right then. Let's get back to the party before they miss us." I waved her away.

"Go ahead, I'll be down momentarily." Again, that eyebrow rose, but she left, seeming to glide across the roof and down the steps. I walked to the rail and leaned on my elbows, closing my eyes and smiling slightly into the breeze that brushed my face. My thoughts drifted between a memory of training a young boy with a bow, another of said archer bringing back a fiery Russian from a mission and a third of a young girl with the former two on either side, yelling out instructions as they sparred. Three agents, all so different, yet so much the same in the way they appeared in my life and changed it for the better. All three so close to each other and yet so independent. All so scarred, but finding healing in the families that took them in. And I found myself proud of my part in that.

I also thought of a beast, a man from out of time, a lonely billionaire and a god from another world, also broken and hurt but mending as others took the time to care about and for them. Every one of them had helped this girl who was just as scarred as them, and, almost without realizing it, had been touched and changed in return. In the nine months since her arrival at the Tower, eleven lives had been affected by this single, blind girl. Not one of them doubted that it was one of the best things that had ever happened to them. At least, I knew I could never deny the awe I felt for this strong young woman. She was something to look up to, something to base your own actions on. Her patience, strength and unconditional love were admirable and I felt I could never live up to it.

This wasn't just an end to her training I realized; this was the start of a new chapter. No longer was Alyssa No-Name, the girl from off the streets, broken and frightened. Now she was Alyssa Banner, the girl who healed a family, strong and sure. I smiled. Taking a final deep breath I headed back downstairs. Everyone was still in the living room, but now Jane was playing the piano in the corner and everyone (except Fury) was singing (or croaking) along with the notes. I still can't remember the name of the song, but I do know that Alyssa's voice was the clearest and most beautiful, carrying above the others' like a beautiful breeze above the many-voiced ocean. My smile softened and my heart felt light. Alyssa was home.

_**A/N: Well, there you go. Everyone's happy, Tony and Pepper are expecting, Alyssa has a family and Coulson is alive. In the meantime, I have a question: What does everyone want to hear next? I have a few ideas and I want you guys to vote on what next. Here are your options:**_

_**For FullMetal Alchemist: What happens if the ending of the 2003 series had beenb different? Note: Al keeps his memories, but loses his right leg and both arms. Ed stays in Amestris.**_

_**Also for FullMetal Alchemist: Roy goes blind and only three people still believe in him. He doesn't even believe in himself.**_

_**Note: Above ending happens. I haven't seen all of Brotherhood and I hate the ending on the 2003 version.**_

_**For X-Men: Evolution: Rogue and Remy pairing story! An argument can be made for Kurt and Amanda.**_

_**Let me know and have a great week! If I don't get at least 5 votes, I probably won't update next week because I have no idea what to pick from the above. Any other idea will be considered as well. Thanks!**_


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